


Stallion

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Series: Stallion Series [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Domination, M/M, Pony Play, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-01-01
Updated: 1999-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benton's got a new stallion he can't wait to break in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stallion

 The hour was late when Benton finally made his way back to his room.  The grounds of his grand estate were so large, he and his company had spent much of the morning and the entire afternoon riding from one end to the other.  The Canadian Rockies shadowed the distant sky of the plains, their tops covered in snow that will soon cover the rest of his property in a few short weeks.  Already the bite of winter was in the air, and the chilly promise invigorated Ben's weary spirit.  Of course, the thoughts of what was waiting for him in his bedroom was enough to bring new life to parts of his body he thought he'd worn out last night.

 It were these thoughts of the previous night's activities that hurried the man to his chambers.  He'd bid hasty--but still polite--good-nights to his guests, with the promise of special entertainment for the next evening.  Renfield Turnbull, that devious snob, made a comment about how excited Ben got over his new stallions, but he was always stingy about sharing.  Pausing at the double door to his bedchambers, Benton smiled deviously. While it was true he was stingy with some of his new toys, he fully planned to keep his promise of a new diversion for next evening.  It would show his dear Renny that he could share as easily as the next man, and give him an opportunity to share the interesting story of this special stallion that taxed even Benton's skills before he broke him.

 Taking a deep breath to retain his calm control, Benton slowly opened the left door, silently wishing that it were less cared for and creaked.  The extra aural stimulation would drive his new pet into a frenzy.  The ornate door frame neatly drew his attention inwards towards the tableau before him, one that had become happily familiar the past few days.  An olive-skinned back stiffened at the feeling of the breeze against the exposed skin, still purpled by criss-crossing lash marks.  Stepping hard in his riding boots, Benton walked across the threshold with loud rhythmic clicks.  The door made no sound as it swung closed on its invisible hinges behind him--not that anything bar the apocalypse could steal his attention from the trembling steed before him.

 He circled behind the restrained beast, admiring the way the muscles rippled with every breath. This sorrel stallion was still wild, even after days of training.  His jaw worked against the bit in his mouth as he strained to see his master, but Benton stayed out of sight in the dark spot caused by the blinders.  His head was shaved of all but a peach's fuzz of hair so that nothing would get caught in the strapping of the bridle.  The only hurt that would come to the animal would be from Ben's own hand, as would any pleasure.  He began to snort at the air, trying to nose out where his master was standing, so Ben placed a calming hand on the nape of his neck.  The beast trembled, but stilled at the touch.

 Slowly, Benton rubbed his palm against the spiky hair.  It was soft stubble, not painful but pleasantly tingling on the sensitive skin of his hand.  He ran his forefinger under the tight leather, making sure that the skin beneath hadn't been rubbed raw.  In the beginning, he had taken the bridle off for a few hours at a time, but after the second day he found that leaving the bit in place kept the stallion blessedly quiet.  In a continuous sweeping motion, Benton brought his hand down over the tense muscles of his pet's neck to feel the fading welts of last night's lash.  The stallion pulled away at every touch to his abused back, but the restraints on his outstretched arms kept him from getting a centimeter away from his master's hand.

 Ben chuckled as he peered over his pet's shoulder to see the restrained erection swell against the binding black leather straps of the extravagant cock ring.  He had been absent from the house the entire day--the longest amount of time he had spent away from  
his stallion since he was brought to the room--and he still sported a painful erection.  No matter how much the beast tried to fight it, he reacted to his master's touch.  The tough leather kept him from ever getting completely erect or completely flaccid, maintaining him at a constant state of unfulfilled arousal that made most of Ben's stallions break after a day.  He'd kept the straps on for three days now.  Perhaps tonight he'd let his pet come. Or perhaps not.

 His pet whimpered when he pressed himself completely to his back, the buttons of his red riding coat poking into the sensitized flesh.  Ben stretched his arms straight out from his sides, following the line of his stallion's, to check on the iron and leather cuffs. The taut chains prevented his new pet from moving more than a few centimeters in any direction, keeping him standing straight at attention 24 hours a day.  The thin skin of his wrists were sound.

 "And how is my stallion tonight?"  Spoken directly into his ear, the man-animal turned towards the sound, searching for some release.

 When his answer did not come immediately, Benton jerked on the reins attached to the rubber bit.  His new stallion reared back, exposing his long neck and the whine coming from within it.  "I asked you a question, stallion."  His voice rarely raised above an even, soft tone in this room, the effect of his cool words speaking louder than any shout would.

 His pet fought against the bit a moment longer, then finally relented, whinnying softly around the thick rubber and leather.  Benton let the reins drop, running his hand over the strained back.  "I do like a horse with spirit, but even for you, my pet, my patience has limits."  He wrapped his arms around his pet's chest, playing with the chest hair.  He usually preferred his toys smooth, but this one was special.  The hair was like  
silk, contrasting with the roughness of the decorative harness over his chest.  The body beneath his refused to give into his light touches, shifting relentlessly in a futile attempt to somehow deny his fate.

 Ben nuzzled against the nape exposed to his lips, licking at the salty skin and the sweet leather.  "Oh, my beautiful stallion, you will learn to accept my hand in all things. You can't fight me forever."  His new stallion growled deeply, then snorted something through the rubber bit that sounded very similar to 'Fuck you.'  When Benton's hand grasped the overly sensitive half-erection and squeezed it, the curse changed into a full throated groan.

 Benton sighed, resting his forehead briefly on the back of his pet's head, then he stepped away completely.  The body swayed at the sudden withdrawal of solid support, but stiffened tensely when Ben stood before him.  Black-rimmed, dilated green eyes glared hotly at Ben, the lips worrying the bit as though he were trying to form another curse.  Benton rested his forefinger on the stretched lips, pouting slightly.  "Have you  
forgotten that lesson so soon?"  He withdrew his finger, licking sensuously at the line of dribble forming at the corner of the stallion's mouth. "Stallions do not talk."

 The green eyes narrowed, speaking as emphatically as their owner had spoken when Ben first brought him to his room.  "Oh, yes, you are my stallion, pet.  A stubborn creature, but you are mine."

 Benton walked away, turning his back on his toy so that he could remove his jacket.  He stood in front of the mirror, checking his own appearance in the reflective surface.  His knee high riding boots were dull with mud from the day's ride.  His tight black riding pants were tucked into the top, the suede thigh patches showing the friction of the long trip.  Ben rubbed at the tight muscles of his thighs, working out some of the  
stiffness.  When his hands moved up to rub at his groin, he heard a gasp behind him.  He looked to the reflection in the mirror in time to see his pet close his eyes, his cock twitching.

 He smiled to himself, allowing the crack in his control knowing his stallion would not see.  The young stud might be closer to breaking than he had thought.  "Keep your eyes open, stallion," he commanded.  After a moment of rebellion, his pet obeyed, meeting his eyes defiantly in the mirror.  So full of spirit, Ben mused silently, this one will be a treasure once he is broken.

 Not removing his gaze from the proud beast behind him, Benton slowly untucked his white silk shirt from his riding pants.  With steady hands, he unbuttoned it, sliding his hands over his pale skin as he removed the soft fabric.  The stallion's eyes moved away from his own, moving down his body to follow the white shirt.  Then Ben turned around, and met his eyes directly.  "I think it is time you were trained to take a rider, my pet."

 The wild green eyes narrowed again as he tossed his head and snorted, as though he thought it were a joke.  It was a natural motion, inborn in the man rather than an animal reaction taught to him by Ben's lessons.  As much as he denied his animal nature, he was a stallion in spirit.  Benton had only seen him briefly before he purchased the defiant servant from a grateful tavern madam, but he had seen enough to tell him that he was untamed, strong willed beyond his station in life, and fierce to the point of barbarous violence when provoked.  No one else had succeeded in breaking this one to their hand, but Benton was always one to accept a challenge.  By the morning, this stallion will be his, body and soul.

 He let the calm seriousness of his face tell the truth of his statement.  Everything he had ever told the beast he was going to do, he did; and this was to be one lesson they both would enjoy.  "First, my pretty," he explained as he reclaimed his riding crop from the dressing counter, "I shall warm that sweet hide of yours."  Standing before the restrained powerful animal, he straightened his back and flexed the stiff whipping device between his hands, letting the animal imagine how it would feel as compared to the more forgiving leather strap.  "Then, I shall ride you until you collapse."

 Benton feasted on his pet's facial expression, committing the moment to his eidetic memory to be recalled and savored.  He lived for the moment, the excitement of bending another to his will, the fight, the victory.  Ben invariably became bored with his stallions once tamed, and he almost wished the fight could continue forever.  He'd enjoyed this one more than he could ever remember enjoying the others.

 Slowly, Ben raised his hand, letting the crop fall benignly to tap his thigh.  The beast flinched, expecting a hit, but the light caress on his cheek was a more painful shock to his system.  As Ben moved his hand up to pet his hair, the animal shook his head wildly, trying to throw off his master's hand as he caressed the soft hair above his ear. The movement reminded Benton of the first time he tried to touch his pet, only to nearly lose his fingers to his nipping teeth; it was a fond memory of his pet's ambitious independence, one that he would always keep in mind so as not to forget the fire raging beneath the surface of his dark skin.  He fully expected the fire to be extinguished by his training, and mourned its lost.

 Taking a length of gold chain from his pocket, Benton removed his hand from its place at his pet's hair and set about securing his cock.  It wouldn't do to damage such delicate equipment--he wanted a stallion, not a gelding!--so to prevent any accidental injury during his training, Benton would secure the fine animal even more.  There was a gold ring threaded through the strap at the tip of the cock restraints, and through this Ben ran the chain.  Ducking under his outstretched arms, Ben stood behind the stallion and pulled the chain taut around his waist.  This drew up his cock and balls, keeping them close to his belly and out of the way while leaving them accessible and on display.  The chain hooked together, slightly biting into the smooth skin of his waist with its tightness. The excess chain dangled down between his ass cheeks, swaying like a golden tail.

 Once secured, Ben returned to his favorite position, spooned against the back of his latest pet, his arms around his chest holding the crop in a visible but harmless position.  "This is going to hurt like nothing else, my pet," he spoke clearly and dispassionately into his ear, his calm belying the rising excitement he kept carefully hidden.  "Feel free to cry out at any time.  I have visitors, and they would love to hear your melodious screams.  It will make them all the more eager for the morrow."

 Benton withdrew his presence, letting the cool air of his bedroom replace the intense heat of his body.  The stallion shivered, either from the draft or the idea of what was about to transpire.  This brought another smile to Benton's usually serious face; soon that goose-fleshed skin would be warm with the bite of his crop.

 He let the first blow fall on the lash-marks on the beast's back, just to remind him of those past lessons.  After tonight, those would be as a rain shower compared to a thunderstorm.  The next folly fell on the as-to-fore untouched globes of his firm ass, stopping just short of breaking the skin with its unforgiving sting.  He didn't want blood--not yet.  The stallion started with every blow, his long body bowing against his restraints as he tried to bolt.  Sweat broke out all over his body to cover his skin in a glowing sheen.  In no time, Ben was perspiring as well, leaning his weight into the crop without giving an inch of respite to his pet.

 Testament to his will, the man-animal didn't cry out until the crop had no choice but to cover skin previously punished, and then he choked them enough behind the bit to make them no more than muffled gasps.  The skin was dimpled with the welts, the color moving straight from pale to brilliant red in random candy-stripes.  As less and less of the dusky skin was visible between the red, Benton removed his attention to his stallion's face, half-visible to him as he stood at his side.  He kept the blows coming at varying intervals on his ass to keep him from fully anticipating the next, but his focus was on the mental state of his wild breed.

 The sweat was literally pouring off his face, running in rivulets down his temples to mix with the tears forced from his tightly shuttered eyes.  His breathing, hampered by the bit, was erratic through his ample nose, caught and lost with every slap of the crop and recovered with desperate reclamation in the calm between hits.  A shiver coaxed down Benton's spine as he watched the pain-lines smooth and the eyes begin to roll  
beneath their lids.  It was a signal for which Ben had been searching these past days of training.  The beast handled pain well, but it never reached this intensity, when the endorphins took over and blurred the line between reality and the unreal.  He had been working towards this moment, when every emotional wall and moral barrier was brought down, when pain and pleasure merged into one receptive state.  He was near the edge of an emotional cliff, and it was time to push him over the edge.

 "You are doing so good, my stallion, my wild one.  You please me so much like this."  His voice was breathless, as he was himself near losing his implacable control. "Let go.  Let me take over.  Give yourself to me."  Benton snapped the crop viciously, drawing a few drops of blood from the battered ass.  The stallion jerked, and suddenly Ben forced his head back by pulling the reins.  His body arched painfully, Ben punished  
him one final time, hissing out, "Submit!" in a voice more passionate than he had ever let himself sound.

 The crack of the last blow reverberated throughout his house, breaking the silence, the night, and the spirit of his captured stallion.  Like a bowstring stretched too far, the stallion's will snapped, leaving his body without support.  He fell back, sagging heavily against his bonds and not fighting Ben's hold on his reins.  The only thing that kept him upright were the chains at wrist and ankle, creasing into the delicate skin at his  
sudden collapse.

 It was a beautiful sight to Benton, one that he never tired of, and this was a hard-earned victory.  He savored it--the sight and the powerful rush.  Tasted it like snow in air.  Smelled the musk of blood and sweat and leather.

 Throwing down the crop, Benton retrieved the cuff-key and a small vial from his jacket.  He released the ankle cuffs first, then his wrists.  Bonelessly his pet fell to the hardwood, sprawled face-first, unable to use his arms or legs after days of being held motionless, and Benton let him.  It would take minutes at least for the blood to return in full force to the tightened muscles, then the stinging needles of life would make his limbs almost usable.

 Benton didn't give him the chance to recover.  Uncorking the vial with his teeth, Benton used his other hand to release his straining organ from the tight confines of his riding pants.  He had denied himself this little death during the interim of the training, preferring to take his stallions after they are tamed as the last step of their training.  He needed no further primping save the thick coat of slick fluid from the vial, which he recorked and tossed towards his bed.

 Kneeling behind his trembling beast, he leaned forward and placed his hand in his armpits, feeling the heaving of his chest.  With a powerful pull, Ben picked up his unresisting upper body and leaned his back against his chest with his legs straddling his lap.  The reins fell down Ben’s back as his stallion's head rolled against his shoulder. Looking down, he had a perfect view of his pet's body arched for his pleasure.  Ben's  
distended cock barely grazed the volcano flesh of his pet's backside due to the arch and avoidance he still had enough will to move his body into.  Merely an echo, a hold-over that will disappear in no time, Benton assured himself.  It didn't displease him, but made him more excited at the interesting time his pet gave him, and will continue to bestow.

 Benton ran his hands down the sweat-slick chest to the restrained penis presented for his play.  His fingers found the organ still hard and needing.  Nuzzling and nibbling the ear next to his mouth, Ben whispered, "You are mine."  Digging his nails into the hollow of his arched stomach, Ben pulled his hips down, impaling the virgin stallion on his erection.  The burning ass seared his skin, causing both mounter and mountee to gasp. His stallion surged upwards to save his sensitive hide from being rubbed raw by his rider. He was too weak to completely bolt, and it was almost easy to bring him to heel back onto his master's lap.

 Almost as soon as he was seated, the beast against bolted.  Benton risked removing a hand from his pet to find the crop he had thrown down.  He ran it down the heaving chest, and the animal whimpered in Ben's ear as it neared his displayed erection. The sensations from the ticklish scruff of hair on his shoulder to the tight, slick heat engulfing only the tip of his starving phallus made Ben lose control.

 Bringing his hand down, but not so very hard, he snapped the crop across his stallion's thighs.  Avoiding the whip, the beast threw himself down, driving the punishing rod deep into his bowels.  He cried out around his bit, the high-pitched whinny tickling Ben's ear, then he surged up again to almost completely pull off his master's cock.  His master's crop cracked again, setting the up and down cycle into a trotting rhythm.  When he moved forward, his thighs were whipped; when he moved back, the erection drove deep into his body.  The beast fucked himself on Ben's cock until Benton thought he would cry out himself in ecstasy.  He didn't even realize that he had dropped the crop until both his hands were working at his pet's restrained organ, trying to remove the strapping with trembling fingers.  And the movement continued up and down...up and down...up and down...

 Ben's climax was near as he found the correct buckle and released the desperate cock from its confines.  Tossing the leather aside, he fisted a hand around it, feeling it come to the complete fullness that had been denied to it by the binding restraints.  On the upward thrust, his stallion fucked Ben's palm, and on the downward, Ben fucked his stallion.  A few short strokes, and both men froze, shuddering and shouting as their balls threatened to turn themselves inside-out.  The last sensation Benton was aware of was the warm stickiness covering his fist as the tight channel rippled around his own erupting phallus.

 The next thing he was aware of was the uncomfortable position of his legs.  He was lying down somewhere, but the discomfort of his legs was overshadowed by the great contentment and satiety of his body.  He floated in an afterglow of intense exhaustion for several minutes after his breath returned, but it was interrupted by the feeling of a great weight on his chest.  Finally coming down from the most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced, Benton opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.

 He was on his back in his bedroom, his legs bent beneath him and someone on his chest.  He straightened them with great difficulty before attempted to lift his head to look at his chest.  It took three tries, but he was able to finally regain enough strength to see. Laying belly-down, his newest prize was asleep on his chest, his face unlined and relaxed in an exhausted slumber.  Still covered with sweat, speckled with his own blood, yet graced with a countenance of pure unconscious gratification, the man struck Ben as being like a newborn babe cradled on his mother’s chest.

 Perhaps that was a fairly accurate assessment, Benton mused.  He had worked hard to bring about this rebirth, and now this tamed beast was his responsibility as well as his pleasure.  Ben found enough strength in his arms to hold his pet closer to his chest possessively.  Definitely a great treasure; responsive from the first, once that final barrier was broken he became the perfect mountee.  He couldn't wait to show him off to his guests in the morning, letting them see how he tamed this beast.  Wouldn't Renny be jealous!

 "You need a name, my pet.  One to show them you're mine," he mused aloud to the oblivious creature.  His mind ticked off the typical names that were usual in this situation: Chestnut, Stanley, Trigger, but none suited his pet.  They were too typical and tame.  "Something special.  Something unique.  Something simple...Ray."  In reaction to the name suggestion, his pet snuffled into a more comfortable position on his chest, the bridle and bit making it difficult.  The name seemed to fit him; like a brilliant flash of sunshine after a storm, his stallion was all fire and limitless energy.  It had taken days to get him to the point most men reached in hours, and he was still full of fire, spirit, or whatever that je ne sais quoi was.  He was broken, but not defeated; tamed, but not passive.  Maybe he wouldn't be getting bored with this stallion any time soon.  "Ray," he spoke formally, bestowing the plain but poetic name upon his stallion like a blessing. "My stallion."


End file.
